


The Feelings of Fall

by 8ami



Series: Garrett & Cal [16]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Bisexual Character, Boys Kissing, Canon Bisexual Character, Established Relationship, Garrett failing to pay attention, Garrett failing to pay attention to things that aren't Cal, Garrett's POV, He'll get better at that., Innuendo, Jealousy, M/M, Making Out, No he won't who am I kidding, POV First Person, Pansexual Character, Pansexual!Garrett, Will Add to Randomly, Will Update Tags as I Do, for now, minor jealousy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-20 22:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17630798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ami/pseuds/8ami
Summary: A series of one-shots surrounding Cal and Garrett that take place during Autumn. Think November.Feel free to leave prompts in the comments. I'm down for all the cliches and troupes.





	1. Sunday, November 12th

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda like "Halloween, Halloween" and "Winter Holidays" except in November. 
> 
> So I'm not dead. I wanted to get something out by the end of Jan, but a couple days late isn't too bad, considering how long it's been since my last update in general. I have tons of notes for different stories regarding these two and I am working on Garrett's reveal to his parents still. I've just also been sleeping 14 hours a day which isn't that healthy or great for time management, lol. My main goal is to get something out every month so here's to hoping I manage that!
> 
> Also, I went back and edited all my previous works. Most were minor edits, thought Chapter 2 of "Naps" got changed a decent amount and I'm going to change the first chapter of "Texts To and From" this next week because I've never been happy with it. So that's also something.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy these two! <3

The sun is filtering through the rough clouds, fighting off the chill in the air. It’s been getting colder lately and I think Thanksgiving is going to be colder than last year, though, it might be colder in several different ways given the deterioration of my relationship with my parents.

The thought is barely registered, the cold barely registered, my focus across the makeshift field in the park my friends and I are using for a pickup game of soccer where some girl has started to talk to my boyfriend, who’s sitting under a tree sketching. I have no idea who the girl is, I don’t recognize her at all, but she is pretty and her hand is on Cal’s arm which is not where it goes.

I flex my fingers and frown, biting… _something_ down from escaping my chest.

A hand slaps onto my shoulder, shooting adrenaline through my veins. I almost snap my neck in tearing my eyes away from Cal to my side where my best friend, Bram, is now standing grinning past the sweat he’s built up from our game.

“You do realize, we’re in the middle of a game, yeah?” He asks. My brow furrows and my features screw up in confusion, because yeah, of course, I know that.

I didn’t realize my jaw was clenched until I go to answer, “yeah…”

“Then why haven’t you moved from this stop in the last five minutes?”

Oh.

My eyes dart from his face to back over in Cal’s direction and then back towards the field. Our other friends and teammates seem to have slowed to a stall. A few of them take the opportunity to grab water, check phones, and wrap back up. I’ve always thought it was troublesome to work out in the nearing winter. I always have to strip down once I get moving and then redress once I stop, the sweat I’ve built up pulling at the cold more than before.

It’s why there are goosebumps on my exposed forearms, I think anyways.

I shift my feet, turn to face Bram and smile a little sheepishly, “okay, so maybe I forgot that...it’s just - ” I cut myself unsure how to finish that sentence. Groaning I end up just tossing a hand in Cal’s direction with a shrug.

Bram follows the direction of my hand, brows pinched at following my words. I see the moment he focuses on Cal as the confusion darts from his face and he’s back to grinning at me.

Bram crosses his arms and leans back a bit to focus on me again, “and what exactly is that?” I narrow my eyes at my best friend because he’s totally doing that thing where he asks me a question he already knows the answer to. Which with anyone else I would hate, but with Bram it’s like he’s leading to a joke in which I get to join in on once I figure it out, instead of being part of.

I don’t answer him right away, looking again at the girl and Cal. As soon as they’re in my sight, I found myself frowning and agitated in my skin. Instead of answering his question I state, “I don’t like how close she is to him. And she keeps touching him -,” agitation drops away as I look to Bram leaving almost amusement, curling my hand and fingers to point up at myself, “wait...am I jealous right now?”

Bram nods, shrugging around a smile, “it kinda looks like it, Garrett.”

I let that process, going through how my stomach is rolling and my skin is raised, the irritation that drops in and out of my system, the desire to go make sure that girl stops touching my boyfriend. I nod my head as understanding follows putting the last piece of the puzzle together.

I’m genuinely surprised, while yeah I’ve totally been possessive and jealous in the past regarding people I’ve dated or even with just friends, I haven’t felt that way with Cal yet. There had been a moment where I felt jealous of Taylor possibly being more than a friend back in the summer, but that disappeared quickly when I started comparing her relationship with Cal to my own with Bram - all friendship.

So I haven’t been jealous regarding Cal yet. Okay, well, it was bound to happen, I think, allowing myself to sink into the emotion. Since I first thought about getting that girl to stop touching Cal, it’s really all I can think about doing. And I see very little reason not to do just that.

“Okay.” I tell Bram and shoot him an almost grin lifting only one side of my face, pointing in Cal’s direction, “well, I’m going to go be jealous over there.”

Bram’s laughing when I turn to start jogging over towards the tree Cal is sitting under. I only slow down once I’m within mere feet, letting my feet crunch on the leaf covered ground. Cal must hear the leaves break or my stomp-like-steps or maybe he’s just constantly aware of me on some level because he looks up just before I slow down. The kind smile he’s wearing deepens making his eyes crinkle when he focuses on me.

I drop to the ground beside him on the ground, on the other side of him from the girl, my back pressed against the tree like Cal and my shoulder pressed to his. I keep a smile on my face as I look to Cal, the girl, and back to Cal.

“Taking a break?” Cal asks and I’m not sure if the two were in the middle of a conversation or not, but I’m more than a little happy about Cal addressing me so quickly.

“Yup.” I pop the ‘p’ and go to grab my bag which had I left with him earlier. I go to pull out water, and yes, I’m purposely ignoring the girl. “Came over to get my water and to see what you were drawing.”

Cal instantly presses his sketchbook closer to his chest so that I can’t see what he’s drawing as he always does when we’re in public. He tilts his chin down towards me too, making it so that he’s looking up at me almost shyly, except his lips are tinted in a smirk resulting in a daring expression. What it is, is very cute, and I can’t help but relax a bit more to see it directed solely at me.

“Do I not get to see?” I tease abandoning my search for my water - I didn’t really want it anyways - to try and go for his sketchbook. He hugs it closer to his chest but lets me get my fingers around the book beneath his own. I make sure not to pull too hard, just enough to pull him into my space. Once, he’s close enough I drop the guise of stealing his sketchbook to press a kiss to his cheek. I let go completely to lean back against the tree watching as his cheeks color, not at all missing the girl that’s still on the other side of Cal frowning.

For a moment, I’m struck with the fear that this girl is about to say something hurtful regarding that we’re both guys when she catches my gaze, but there’s nothing like hate there in her eyes, just disappointment and irritation. I breathe a sigh of relief, while she sits back on her heels putting distance between herself and Cal.

It’s in that moment, that Cal seems to remember he wasn’t alone when I came over, “oh, Garrett this is Mina. Mina this is Garrett,” he pauses while he does his own assessment, before adding, “my boyfriend.”

“Hey, Mina.” I throw out feeling good about the distance between her and Cal, especially compared to the space between me and Cal. Mina returns my greeting not all that enthusiastic, before pulling out her phone apparently having gotten a message from her friends on their arrival to the park.

I’d bet a hundred dollars her phone doesn’t have any new messages.

I also don’t say anything to prolong her departure.

Cal watches her walk off for a few seconds, before turning to me with a frown. “Do you think she was bothered by us being together?”

“Totally,” I answer without thinking. I only realize what his question is in relation to when he frowns and straightens so our shoulders aren’t touching. I purposely lean into him, he shots me a questioning look - after all I’m the one with a history of aversion to public affection, though, he’s became more conscious of it since he found out about my parents as if us being physical in public will somehow get back to my parents making things at home worse.

I’m never more upset with my parents than when I realize that something they do is affecting Cal.

“Not like that though,” I add on in answer to his questioning look.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she was bothered by the fact that you weren’t single.” Cal’s face screws up in confusion as he stares at me, and then doubt crosses his features as he shakes his head at me, clearly thinking I’m messing with him.

Honestly, I’m relieved that Cal didn’t notice she was flirting. I’d probably be more upset if Cal knew and didn’t do anything to try and get her to stop. On the other hand, I’m not impressed with the idea that Cal thinks she couldn’t have been flirting with him. “I mean it, she was totally flirting with you. Why do you think I came over? It definitely wasn’t to get water.” I answer with a shrug of my shoulders, trying to downplay it all.

“Seriously?”

A glance towards him makes me see the doubt on his features, set into the lines there near his eyes. I lean in, lowering my voice a little, “do you seriously not realize how good looking you are? Because I’m totally up for reminding you how hot you are.”

I enjoy watching the color in his cheeks spread down towards his chest. “I’m pretty sure you’re in the middle of a soccer game.” He reminds me, tone as even as my own. He might blush, making him prettier than he normally is, but he always gives back as much as I give, if not more.

Sparing a glance towards my friends, I see that they haven’t gathered to start another game, instead, they’re sitting down, enjoying the break in play. “I’m pretty sure I stopped that when I came over here.”

Cal is about to say something back that’s teasing, no doubt, when he pauses with his lips parted. He blinks a few times losing the heat to his eyes which I think is a shame. “What? You stopped the game?”

It’s my turn to blush, as my eyes dart away from him. “Yeah, apparently. I didn’t mean to, but that girl - Mina was over here and she kept touching your arm and I couldn’t stop staring. Jay was taking a penalty kick and apparently, I didn’t notice that was over with. I guess someone called a break, and Bram came over to me to get my attention.” I explain with a rush of breath hoping that if I said it quick enough it wouldn’t be so embarrassing.

Cal is looking at me with the same bit of confusion he’s had for a while now. “Were you actually jealous?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes, embarrassment giving away to astonishment, “she was flirting with you.” I justify. She mostly touched his arm, his shoulder, hovered in his space, smiled up at him through her lashes, but that was more than I liked, just thinking back to it is making a frown pull on my lips.

Cal breaks into a smile that I can’t help but respond to with my own smile. He brings up his hand, fingers trailing down my temple where he settles his hand along my jaw. “You have nothing to be jealous of.”

I lean into his touch a little more, my chest lighter at his reinsurance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He guides me forward with his hand on my jaw into a kiss that’s more than chaste and has the potential to leave me more breathless than playing soccer did, but Cal pulls back before we get that far. “I’m pretty fond of you.”

“Only fond?” I jest, eyes wide like my smile. Cal smiles like he’s hiding laughter and starts to settle away from me as if he’s done giving me attention which is just wrong really.

I’m about to continue with my play, when Marcus calls out to me catching my attention, “Laughlin! You coming back or what?”

I jerk my head in his direction where things look like they’re getting back together for the pickup game, eyes squinting to make out my friends through my bubble of small reality with Cal. I’m honestly thinking about telling them I’m done when Cal nudges me. “Go play and later I’ll show you just how fond I am of you.”

I groan because that does not make me want to go kick a ball with my friends. I’d much rather do something else with balls, but Cal reads my expression and adds, “of course, only if you score.”

I sigh as dramatically as if I was on stage for one of Cal’s plays, but start to get up. “I’m coming!” I shout at Marcus once I’m on my feet and then turn back to Cal. In a quieter, teasing tone, “Okay, okay, I’m going, but let’s face it - I’m scoring tonight whether I get a goal or not.”

The fact that Cal laughs at that should probably do something to my ego, but really I’m not wrong and hearing Cal laugh is always wonderful. I move back to the field with one more smile, leaves crunching under my feet.


	2. Saturday, November 18th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal and Garrett get interrupted and then called out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one week, I'm so proud of myself. This was really fun to write so I hope it's just as fun to read.

I hear myself curse over the blood pumping in my head, hands buried in Cal’s hair because I have to hold onto something while he bites, licks, and sucks at my neck making me fall apart underneath him. I lean my head back into his pillow, stretching my neck out to let him have access to more skin and he’s quick to show his appreciation. His hands are roaming my chest and arms, up and down, dipping into creases around muscle, his cold hands leaving my skin on fire.

Cal finds a really good spot on my neck, one close to my collar bone, his teeth grazing the skin there. I arch my back at the sensation that overtakes my  _everything_ , but it’s not enough. I need him a whole lot closer, so my hands leave his hair to hold onto his hips and within moments I’ve flipped us over so that I’m over him while having on leg left between his. I don’t waste any time before dropping my weight onto him, falling into a kiss that’s bruising for us both. One of his hands has found a place for it in my hair and I like that he pulls a little, keeps me from diving too far into the kiss too quickly.

Doesn’t stop me from rolling my hips down into his, though.

He moans into my mouth and I go to lick into his. He pulls me by his hold in my hair just far enough away so that I can’t press our lips together, instead, they only brush as we breathe the mixing air between us. I whine, a little sound slipping past my lips as I tug forward again only to have him stop me again. He keeps his lips away from mine, but he does press his forehead against mine, breath heavy and erratic. Cal's eyes slide shut and I can hear him take deliberate breaths, as he does so I take the opportunity to let take him in.

His skin is flushed a pretty color just asking to be licked, his lips are swollen already, and his hair is a total mess thanks to my wandering hands. I can already see a dark pink spot high on his neck that I put there before he returned the favor tenfold. I let my eyes travel down his body to the barely-any-space between us loving all the skin on display. We lost our shirts ages ago as that's almost always the first thing to go with us and while my jeans are still on securely, Cal’s button is popped and the zipper is just asking to be pulled down.

I lick my lips, want building in the pit of my stomach. When I look back up to Cal’s face, his eyes are open again blue being overshadowed by black and he's staring at me, no doubt having seen all the desire and hungry stretch across my face, especially not this close to each other. I'm surprised to find all soft adoration mixed with longing and desire deep in his eyes instead of something... well actually I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting, but this look is making me blush - I can feel my face heating up - rather than something hotter.

“What?” I ask light and with a little embarrassed laughter trailing at the end. Cal takes a deep breath, his chest brushing against mine in the process, his other hand settling at my waist soaking in as much skin as he can.

“You.” Is all Cal says which tells me not nearly enough.

“Me what?”

Cal just laughs, all breathless and like he’s drunk, lips curling into a smile. “You’re gorgeous.” And that definitely colors my checks. I mimic his smile because if he thinks I’m gorgeous then he should really look at himself more often. God, especially right now with him under me, hair splayed about, cheeks flushed, looking at me like I hung the fucking stars just for him. I couldn’t keep my heart still if I wanted to. He’s so beautiful.

His hand is still in my hair so when I try to lean forward to kiss him again overwhelmed by what’s in my chest, I only jerk forward lips pressing together only for a millisecond in a mockery of a kiss. I immediately frown, a whine slipping out of me and the fondness in Cal’s eyes turns teasing almost instantly. Cal doesn’t let me move closer, and while I could probably pull hard enough to break his grip - my hair isn’t long enough for great hold and I am stronger than him - I don’t make any move to do so, letting Cal lead and direct. It’s almost fitting since his job in theatre is to tell everyone what they’re supposed to do.

But I’ve never been the greatest with authority, always wanting to push the limits so I roll my hips down again, making sure he’s aware of how he’s affecting me, making sure I can feel how hard he is through our jeans. His eyes flutter shut and he tilts his head back moaning along with the action.

“Fuck, Garrett.” He whispers, drawl heavy, right before pulling me into a kiss that gets us both moving. He tastes so good and it takes nothing at all to turn the kiss messy. Our hands roam each other’s skin like magnets - I flick at his nipples with my thumbs earning myself a breathy moan that gets lost in the wet kiss, I grip around his neck with one hand to pull him even closer while grounding myself to this moment, keeping me from getting swept up in the pleasure of all of this. Cal leaves scratches that make me shiver every time he adjusts his hands just before applying enough pressure to leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints on my back where  _he’s_  pulling me even closer.

Thunk

I maneuver so that our hips are right over each other, allowing us to grind our clothed erections together in something that's thrilling, but not nearly enough. I get a hand between us, fumbling along the hem of jeans until I can get ahold of Cal's zipper without looking or breaking the kiss in order to open his jeans giving me access to more of him. I don’t think I could ever get enough of him. I push my hand into Cal's jeans, dragging fingers and creating surprising delicate pressure against the bulge in his boxers. Cal makes the most wonderful breathless sounds at that, hips jerking up off the bed without rhythm.

_Tap Tap Tap Tap_

Our lips finally break away from each other, out of breath and a little confused at what caused the skip in our actions when the tapping repeats.

It’s the door. Someone is knocking on Cal’s front door. Well, it’s not his parents - who aren’t due back until late tonight - as they wouldn’t knock on the door to their own house, and that’s all that I need to know before I decide it’s not nearly as important as the boy beneath me is.

Cal blinks a few time as if he can blink away all the heat that’s built up there in his eyes, head turned towards his bedroom door out towards the stairs across the landing. I can see him thinking about the knocking, about if he should go down and answer it, if it would be rude not to.

I don’t give a fuck if it’s rude.

I kiss at the exposed skin of his neck as I tug at the waistband of his boxers, dipping my fingers beneath in a teasing motion. I can hear his breath hitch with anticipation and his eyes fall shut despite him trying to fight the action as he swallows heavily. God, I want him. Anything and everything he’ll give me. I want it. I kiss up his neck, along his jaw, over his cheek and finally capture his lips, before pulling back enough, posting up on my forearm, to drink in his reactions.

_Thunk Thunk Thunk TapTapTapTap Thunk_

Just as I start to move my hand down, further into his boxers, with every intention of touching him, I see Cal’s brows pinch in annoyance right before he pushes me off of him. I fall off to the side of him trying to catch up to the moment, to realize that the irritation of the motion isn’t directed at me.

“Sorry, sorry. I just… I have to go see who it is. I’ll be right back.” He tells me, flushed and surprisingly rushed with words slurred by his southern drawl in a very distracting way, and it takes me another moment to understand what his words actually mean.

Despite his obvious rush, Cal hasn’t moved again, staring at me. He’s waiting on my reaction I realize. So, I nod, short and jerky, but it’s still a nod. It's obvious that he doesn’t really want to go downstairs, but a part of him is making him, so I don’t make it harder for him by asking him to ignore it.

Cal crawls from the bed, closes and adjusts his pants and grabbing at whatever shirt he can find. It's mine. He's wearing  _my_ shirt, which never gets old. It's a little long, attempting to disguise the erection he's sporting and a little loose, letting it lay crooked on him, displaying more of his shoulder and collar bone, even a few blemishes that I’ve left, and well, if I have to watch him go this isn't a bad look to see going out the door.

I let several heartbeats pass before groaning collapsing back onto the bed. Now that Cal isn’t there to focus on, I start to feel the strain in my gut, my dick hard enough that I can feel it start to leak, creating a wet spot on my briefs. I palm myself needing something to ease the strain that’s almost painful, and it feels good enough that my eyes clenched shut. I let go, rolling over to bury my face into Cal’s pillow, shutting out the room to settle my nerves.

Except, the pillow smells like Cal and I can still feel his skin against my hands like a ghost. I catch myself grinding my hips down into Cal’s bed to ease the strain in my groin when I have to stifle a moan that ripples through me by almost gagging myself on Cal’s pillow, not wanting it to carry to the rest of the house now that I know it’s not empty.

Cal needs to hurry back already.

With greater willpower than I would have thought I had, I make myself stop, roll back onto my back and focus on my breathing not wanting to get off in Cal’s bed without him. Even if that thought is sort of appealing, especially if he walked back in during it and enjoyed the sight, but even in that scenario the really good part is when he gets back in bed with me. I strain my hearing to try and listen, to see if I can hear if Cal is coming back.

I can make out several voices - one that is definitely Cal’s and another that is definitely Taylor’s. I curse and jump up from the bed, disgruntled shock burying itself into my features as I move closer to the door of Cal’s bedroom to hear better, because that wasn’t  _actually_  Taylor, right?

“What are you talking about?” Cal asks his tone back to being slow and controlled, but still heavy from kissing so much not too long ago.

“We all agreed we’d go over lines for the play that’s in  _two_  weeks today.” Damn. That really is Taylor, and I must be getting better at reading her, because I suddenly know that she’s reading lines today one way or another.

Every day closer to the play’s opening night, she’s gotten more and more neurotic, so it’s not really surprising that finding Cal with lips kissed swollen and definitely not wearing his own shirt means nothing to her and is not going to stop her from preparing for the play.

“Yesterday at the end of practice?” Someone prompts. I can’t make out who that is from their voice alone, but I’m already moving away from the door scooping up my shirt or rather Cal's shirt, pulling it on. Its tight across my chest and shoulders but it fits enough and it's a little thrilling to be wearing something of Cal’s. Not as much as it was seeing him wearing my clothes, but still. I want to see his reaction - if he even has a reaction. I adjust myself so that it's not so painfully obvious how hard I am still, thankful that my dick is deflating some at the new situation.

I really wish there wasn’t a new situation.

I’m not quiet in my descent down the stairs and I can’t help but laugh in nervous astonishment, because when I come down far enough to look out the front door above Cal’s head. Not only is it Taylor and Brianna, but it’s also Abby, and fucking Speir standing there on Cal’s porch.

Cal’s turned around at hearing me laugh. I shrug when I catch his eyes under a furrowed brow, jump down the remaining steps despite him having told me not to do that, and kiss his cheek because it’s been too long since I touched him last and I want him to know that this is okay.

“Figured you weren't coming back,” I look past Cal to the others - Abby and Brianna are grinning like they caught the canary, Spier’s cheeks are red but he’s smiling too, and Taylor just looks like she wants to get a move one, “since apparently, you’re reading lines today.”

Cal frowns, but my words must be enough for Taylor as she then steps into Cal’s house making her way to the living room like she probably has a thousand times. The others follow slowly as Cal and I just watch them, Cal bewildered and me somewhere between annoyed and amused.

I hesitate suddenly, then take a step back towards the stairs figuring I’ll need to grab my things that I left in Cal’s room, but Cal makes to grab at the shirt I’m wearing. The shirt isn’t loose enough for him to actually get a grip, but his fingers graze across my chest stilling me anyways. He doesn’t remove his hand.

“What are you doing?” He asks a slight waver to his voice, taking a step towards me, eyes traveling from his hand on my chest up to my face in a slow, studying motion.

“Uh… you’re reading lines…?” I question more than say.

Cal shakes his head, “you don’t get to leave,” he immediately swallows, face falling soft losing some of the bravado he has when we’re alone together, “I mean, please stay. I want you to stay.”

I rub his upper arms a few times, warming them, before I drop my hands to his waist. “Okay.” And I kiss him easily, chastely hoping to express what I can’t seem to find the words for.

Which is a lot, is always a lot, but right now it’s mainly about how I’m not going anywhere he doesn’t want me to, about how I want to be with him in this situation and more, stay with him even when I’m not interested in what’s going on because he’ll be there and he will always be interesting to me, about how I’m not going to leave him unless I have to, about how scared I am that I might have to one day.

He relaxes some, giving me a shy smile that I return brightly. “Nice shirt,” Cal comments, pressing his hand flat against my chest. I just chuckle before I adjust the shirt that he’s wearing to sit correctly on his shoulders.

Cal takes a deep breath, letting it sink throughout his veins, before he finally steps away from me to shut the front door. He takes my hand, then, to lead me over to the living room where the others are waiting on us.

 

* * *

 

 

Since, Cal and I were the last ones over and because Cal is a nice person and a good host, we end up sitting on the carpeted floor of his living room. Cal has a script laid out of the floor in between him and the coffee table. He reads the stage cues and explains the setting to the others at the start of each scene, what’s expected of them, what they’re going for, and other things that I don’t really get, but know is something that people into art do.

Taylor and Brianna have settled onto the couch, scripts broken apart in between them on the middle seat, while Abby and Spier have taken the arm chairs on either side of the couch, scripts in their own hands. From what I’ve gathered their roles are smaller than the two girls on the couch.

They make it through one scene, before I lose interest with all the stops and comments and starts. I decide that Cal makes a good pillow and rest my head in his lap while pulling out my phone. Cal doesn’t even pause in the middle of him saying something to Abby about lighting as I move, just uses the hand not working his script to immediately string through my hair, scratching absentmindedly at my scalp, once I’m settled.

I text Bram about his weekend plans, send my sister a meme I think she’ll find funny, and then after a moment of hesitation, I send a text to the group chat I have with my parents asking if they need me home for anything. I’m not really expecting an answer.

I switch between talking to Bram and playing a Clash Royale for the next hour or so, when Taylor suddenly interrupts my concentration.

“This isn’t working.” Taylor huffs, high pitched and tight, “we’re missing half the impact without Martin here doing his dialogue.” I shift my eyes to look at her on the couch, she looks like she swallowed something sour while expecting something sweet.

I suppose it makes sense that she wants Martin to be present, since he’ll be on stage with them when they’re performing and he is playing on of the major characters in the play, but Martin is pretty high up on my shit list so I’m relieved when Abby speaks up opposed to the idea.

“We’ll practice with him at school, Taylor. For now, we’ll make do and focus on  _our_ lines.” There’s a bite to her words that causes Taylor to shot her gaze at Abby, intense and not at all welcoming, but Abby’s focus is down on the papers on her hands. I don’t think the bite was meant for Taylor. Maybe for Martin, maybe herself.

“Make do, how?” Taylor snaps while still somehow making it sound like she actually wants an alternative.

Taylor like most of the school knows about what went down with Martin and Spier last year, probably knows something closer to the truth than most of the populace, even, but her obsession with getting this play right is more than how much Martin disgusts her.

I can’t help but think back to the cast party earlier this year with all of her brother’s accomplishments on displayed around her house and very few of her own. I wonder if her parents will come to the show and if they have in the past. The tension that built up in me at even the possibility of Martin showing up, of Taylor hinting at calling him lessens significationally.

There’s quiet to Taylor’s question and she keeps looking around, pausing mostly at Spier. I let my eyes drift off the edge of my phone’s screen to check on him, to follow Taylor’s own gaze. He radiates unease - shifting in his seat, looking down at his hands as they tug at the sleeves of his hoodie, and worrying his lip.

Spier has spoken about the shit with Martin to our group of friends, and even can joke about it sometimes - which at times I don’t handle well, or well one time in particular, but I was also drunk and angry so it was not my finest moment all around - but I know from Bram that it still sits uneven in his stomach sometimes. Mostly, though, Speir is just glad it all worked out - that his friends are back in his life, that he doesn’t have a secret from his family anymore, and that he has an awesome boyfriend.

Plus, I think it probably helped when he told Martin off last spring when the guy tried to not-really-only-sort-of-apologize.

I see Spier shrug, letting out a heavy sigh. “If it helps, I mean. I don’t like the guy, but the play…”

“Fuck, Spier, you’re too nice of a person. Don’t call that weasel.” I cut in angry on Spier’s behalf at Spier for being so nice to even think about letting himself be uncomfortable on a Saturday for some school play.

Spier’s head jerks up, eyes widening as they take me in sitting up out of Cal’s lap. Cal is watching me nearly as closely as Spier is at the moment, but I pointedly do not look at either of them as I pull Cal’s script closer to in between us on the floor. I notice Cal’s copy of the script is written over and marked up in Cal’s small print a significant amount.

“What do you need him for - just to read his lines? I can do that.” I don’t want to, but I’d rather read some fancy sentences than let one of my friends be uncomfortable in the way Spier was about to let himself be.

Taylor makes this odd sound like she wants to tell me off, but also doesn’t want to and it makes me look up at her. When she knows she has my attention does she says, "it’s not just lines; you have to read them like they’re going to be said on stage.”

“So, if Hector - that’s who you’d be playing - is upset then that needs to come through in how you say it.” Brianna jumps in, explaining more in order to actually let me help. “Hector is this really loud, boisterous guy that owns the house the play is set in. He’s stereotypically rich with lines like, ‘what’s a dime?’ and looks down on people if they’re from a lower class. You’ll need to kinda play into that.” Brianna keeps exchanging looks with Taylor, making sure Taylor is at peace as well as the rest of the room with her explanation.

I let the words make sense in my head for a minute, looking over the page of the script the group is on. I find Hector’s name written out in all caps several times on the page, and yeah, okay Brianna’s summary of the guy seems accurate enough. A quiet weighs in the room as I study the lines for a minute, thinking it over, everyone waiting on me.

“It’s like reading a story to my nieces then, yeah? Like when you do voices for the different characters in the book?” I ask breaking the silence, looking up at Brianna and Taylor. It feels a bit easier to deal with, thinking about the play like a story to tell my nieces.

Brianna grins. “Yeah, sort of. Don’t worry about changing your voice though, just push the emotion through.”

“Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

Cal catches my attention by putting his hand on mine, his face is all quiet smiles and he leans over to kiss my cheek in what I take is apperication. I squeeze his hand, looking around the room. Taylor and Brianna look content, speaking quietly to each other while pointing at the script between them. I’d bet twenty dollars that they’re discussing on if I’ll actually be any help on this. Spier has settled forward, resting his elbows onto his knees and he’s smiling, seeming a whole lot more at ease now. He catches my eyes, smiling a little more at me which I return. When I get to Abby, she’s looking at me like I don’t make sense, but when she realizes I’m looking at her she shoots me a thin smile that lights a spark in her eyes, burning up the tension that had settle there.

“I thought you didn’t do theater, Garrett?” She asks with a light tease to her voice.

Before I can say anything in retort, Spier speaks up around a smile, “judging by the fact that Cal and him are wearing each other’s shirts. I think he  _does do_  theater, Abby.” I hear Cal choke on air and Abby say Spier’s name in a gasp of laughter that Brianna joins in on. I snap my head, gaping slightly, to look at Spier, his face his red, but he looks fucking proud of himself.

I raise my hand, point my finger at him to drive home whatever point I’m trying to put into words, but eventually, I just give away to a smile, because if Spier is comfortable enough to make jokes, then he’s probably doing pretty good. Plus, that was a good fucking line and I totally don’t have it in me to be mad at him.

“Fair enough.” I wag my finger a few times at him as he ducks his head a little, giving away to a chuckle. I shake my head as Cal turns the subject back to the play, his face a lovely shade of pink, by suggesting they read from the top of the scene. Taylor is quick to agree with him, pushing the rest of us in that direction as well.

 

* * *

 

Cal’s parents arrive just before dinner to find a gathering of teenagers all reading lines in their living room. They don’t seem shock at all, just ask who’s staying for dinner. Most everyone thanks them for the offer, but decline. I don’t give a reply, but amongst all the others words it’s hardly noticed.

I grab my phone from where I left it on the carpet beside me to check my messages. My conversation with Bram had died off a little while ago so I’m not expecting anything from him. My sister has sent me back a meme in return as well as paragraph long message that after reading the first few lines I decide is something that can wait and that I’ll read it later. 

My heart jumps up into my throat when I see that my mom has responded to my earlier text. I can count the number of times she’s talked directly to me on one hand in the last week. Usually, my dad is the one that’s actually ‘parenting’ me nowadays - telling me when to be home, asking where I’m at, reminding me about how important school is and upcoming dates.

 

 **November 18th, Saturday** **  
** **Text Group: Me, Mom, Dad**

1:02 PM G :: any reason I need to be home??

 

6:07 PM Mom :: If youre with that boy that youre ruining our lives over. No.

6:10 PM Mom :: Otherwise dinner is at 7.

 

I check the clock on my phone. It’s six forty now.

Well, I guess I don't have any reason to hurry home for dinner then. I only realize my hands are shaking when the words on the screen blur a little. Fuck. I stutter a breath in, taking in as much air and oxygen as I can, before letting it go in one slow exhale. This is getting too old for me to still be acting like this. I need to get over this, get over my mom. That’s a hell of a lot easier said than done, though. Especially, when every time we talk now a days I end up feeling angry or rejected all over again.

“Garrett?” Taylor calls, “we’re going to read one more time.”

I swear I hear what Taylor is saying, the words coming out of her mouth even makes sense, but I also really, really don’t. Cal grabs my hand and it feels like a weight, pulling me down to the ground, refusing to let me just float away.

When I’m coherent enough to look at him and actually see him, I see that his gaze is locked down at my phone’s screen. I immediately drop my phone, let it fall in between my legs out of his sight. He slowly raises his head, locking eyes with mine.

“I think it’s time to call it, Taylor,” Cal says. Or rather I see his lips move to the words, but I don’t really hear it over the look on his face. Maybe his hand is keeping me down, but maybe I’m in the ocean instead of on the ground. Cal’s closed off his features, but his lips are set thin and there is a pinched look around his eyes, that I know is from keeping something painful from surfacing in his eyes.

My shoulders sag, bringing up my other hand to trace along his temple, cutting us off from the group in a way. I can hear Taylor protest and Spier and Abby pushing to call it, choosing to ignore why they're siding with me, how I can feel one of them staring at me. I’m pretty sure Brianna has started picking up papers going with the majority. I register it all on a subconscious level, my focus on Cal.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper, low and with a crooked half smile directed at him.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re the cause of all my problems. Which - ”

“In that text - ”

“ - is exactly the opposite of how things are.” I talk over his interruption, stressing my words, because even if I feel like my insides don’t make sense, Cal being in my life does. And I don’t want him thinking otherwise. Cal doesn’t say anything, studying my face, before slowly nodding. I don’t think it’s because he agrees with me, but he’s willing to agree that he’s not right either. I take what I can get right now.

I pull my hand away from his skin and make to join the others in tidying things up in the living room. Cal follows my lead and soon enough Spier, Brianna, and Abby are saying bye, heading out the door.

Taylor has caught Cal in the entryway with the play’s script in her hands, talking about last minute things and plans I take. Taylor is much more invested in the conversation, but her obsession with the play lets Cal’s quietness go unnoticed or at least it isn’t questioned.

I lick my lips with uneasy nerves, “I’m gonna go grab my shoes.” I say not really expecting there to be a pause in the two’s conversation over it, but Cal’s attention snaps to me.

“Are you going home?” And that is such a multilayered question, Cal having this way of putting so many things in so few words.

I could lie and tell him yes, which won’t go over well.

I could tell him the truth, telling him I’m probably just going to grab fast food or something from the corner store before heading home late enough for my parents’ dinner to be over, maybe even duck into my room without having to speak to them. Which won’t go over well either.

“You should stay.” He adds when I’ve opened and closed my mouth a half dozen times with no words coming out.

It’s a nice offer and it would make Cal feel better, and Cal’s dad is a really good cook. It wouldn’t be the first time I stayed for dinner with my boyfriend and his parents, but it’s still not my favorite thing. Especially, right after being reminded of how fuck awful my relationship with my own parents is.

I’m never going to bring Cal back to my house for dinner with my parents.

And Cal’s parents don’t know about mine, which makes conversation even more of a minefield. Not only do I have to not say something offensive to them or suggest that I’m not good for their son, but I also have to lie and side step questions about my home life.

“Stay,” Cal says again and he sounds a lot like he did when Taylor and them first showed up. I remember what I was feeling then, what I’m feeling now under all the tangled frustration and exhaustion.

“Okay.” I see his shoulder relax, “let me go ask your parents.”

He nods and I turn to go into the kitchen as Taylor takes up Cal’s attention again. I can’t tell if she’s asking about what that just was or the play, but I decide it doesn’t matter nearly as much as getting myself together enough to present myself to Cal’s parents.

I knock on the open door frame of the kitchen, Cal’s dad is chopping vegetables at the island while his mom is putting away the groceries they brought home. It’s Cal’s dad - Mark - that looks up at the sound.

“Hello, Garrett.” He greets friendly with this smile that takes up his whole face. Cal shares his blond hair with his dad, but he doesn’t share his boisterous personality. Mark is a big man, well-worn hands from his job as a capterner, but his bright eyes and kind face makes it easy to forget he’s physically as big as his personality.

“Hi, uh, I was just wondering if it was okay if I stayed for dinner?” I asked, hesitant for the fact that these are Cal's parents if for nothing else.

“Of course, it’s okay, dear.” Dianna, Cal’s mom, cuts in. She’s sweet, but stern and a lot of Cal’s mannerisms come from her I’ve noticed. “But, before you go back to Cal, do mind coming here for a moment.”

Kitchens and parents with important talks have historically been poor for me, but it would just be rude to say no. “Um, yeah, sure.” I manager stepping closer to the pair, standing on the other side of the island from them, more than a little hesitant. I have no idea what they could want to talk to me about.

The only things I can think of is either it’s about Cal and my relationship or about my parents, somehow.

Dianna turns from the pantry finishing up the last bag of groceries. She smiles at me, but it’s controlled and really it does nothing for my nerves. A glance at Mark tells me that he’s stopped preparing dinner to give me his attention too. “What’s up?” I ask needing this to get a move on, and then because I can’t always control my mouth, “did I do something wrong? Because I swear I didn’t mean to and I definitely apologize for it.”

I could probably keep talking, but I snap my mouth close when Dianna reaches across the island as if to put her hand on mine. Except I’m not actually touching the island. Still, I recognize it as the comforting gesture that it's supposed to be. “Do remember to breathe, dear.” She doesn't tell me I'm wrong. Doesn't say that I didn’t do anything wrong. Just to breath.

When she seems satisfied that I’m not going to speak more than I’m going to breathe, the petite woman straightens her posture. “It’s just that, well, you’re wearing Cal’s shirt.”

“And Cal is wearing your’s,” Mark adds on.

Well, damn.

I can feel my face heating up, “oh.” I almost laugh because of course, this is happening now, but really it just makes me frown as I try to keep looking at one of them. “Well, you see… okay, I don't have a good explanation for that.”

“I appreciate you not making something up right then,” Mark says and this time I do let out a chuckle that's rough.

“I mean I would have if I could, but I got nothing but the truth.” The truth. It's such a novel idea really.

“The truth is always best,” Dianna continues, “and the truth is we're both aware that you and Cal are teenagers and are dating and don't have to worry about getting anyone pregnant, but we - as Cal's parents - just want to make sure that you and him are respecting the trust we put into you when we allow you to come over without supervision.”

I'm nodding before she finishes her words, a little desperate because I do not want to have this conversation. I don’t get to finish my thoughts, before Mark adds, “we just want the two of you to be safe, obviously.” That does nothing for the shade of my face, I’m positive the redness has spread down beneath my shirt collar which is actually Cal’s and what’s causing this terrible situation.

Cal can’t have any of my clothes anymore.

“Safe? Yeah, totally. What - oh, of course, I mean no we aren’t -  _that_. We’re not doing that. So no worries there, promise. We’re totally respecting your trust. Absolutely, cause I mean, fuck - sorry about cursing! It’s just this conversation… ” My hands run just as fast as my mouth and I’m looking anywhere but actually at Cal’s parents, because oh my god, this conversation.

As my words trail off, I knock my head back, looking upward towards the kitchen ceiling missing how Cal’s parents actually react to my words. Isn’t this something you talk to your own kid about, not the person they’re dating? I mean, I guess it’s good to talk to both parties involved and it’s not like my own parents are going say anything on this matter. Concerning Cal at least, they have, unfortunately, in the past talked to me.

I hear the rebound of a door closing and footsteps approaching. Before, I know it I can tell Cal’s made it to the kitchen doorway. I can feel him behind me, cautious no doubt, since I’ve decided the ceiling is so very interesting.

“Garrett?” He asks and it’s only then that I drop my head, a bit of relief passing through my neck. I sweep my gaze quickly away from the adults in the room to Cal. And, okay, scratch that whole ‘Cal not getting my clothes anymore’ thing I thought before, because this conversation might be up there on my list of things I don’t enjoy, but seeing Cal standing there wearing my shirt is too much of a good thing to not want more of.

“Yes? Oh so, yeah you’re just in time to join this wonderful conversation I’m having with your parents.” The words rushed and stretched around a stressed smile, but my shoulders relax when he comes to stand beside me, eyebrows pinched. He puts his hand on my lower back, before facing his parents with obvious concern.

“What conversation?”

Dianna shuffles a bit, weight moving from one hip to the other, before she explains to Cal that her and Cal’s father just wants to make sure we’re being respectful - to each other, to them and their home, and they’re just concern is all. By the end of her explanation, Cal’s eyes are round and his cheeks are red hot. I can feel the stiffness in his hand at my back, turning from flesh to rigid steel.

Instead of some assurance that of course we’re doing that and it’s understandable that they’re concerned, Cal says, “where did this come from?” Which I'm sure about as a response, though I suppose it's better than my ramble of a reaction.

Mark and Dianna exchange a glance then, speaking and coming to an agreement of sorts, I think. They’re talking silently too long and now I’m the one concerned. I can’t let the quiet sit too long, “we’re wearing each other’s shirts.” Cal looks up to me at that and I see him trail his eyes down my body to where his shirt sits on my shoulders and then across to his own chest where my shirt hangs.

“It’s also, because we aren’t blind or naive enough to think you two don’t have a... very physical aspect to your relationship,” Dianna says adding on. And okay, I’ll give her that one. I hate getting caught kissing by Cal’s parents while I’m over, but it has happened, and even if we aren’t kissing we’re usually touching somehow - see Cal’s hand on my back right now for example.

Also, it’s not like we’ve been celibate while together, but they don’t know that - they don’t know that for certain, anyways. If they didn’t at least suspect, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I find myself nodding at words, in a ‘yeah, yeah, sure’ kind of gesture.

“Okay…” Cal says drawing out the word even slower than normal, “well, we’re being safe and respectful, I promise.”

“That’s what I said, in just a lot more words.” Cal’s astonishment and nervous dip down as he gives me a small half smile at my lame joke. I count it as a win, double points even when I look to Cal’s parents and find them with soft smiles and nodding heads.

“Good.” Mark prompts breaking the tension in the room with his baritone voice, “that’s all we want. Now dinner will be ready in forty minutes. You still want to stay Garrett, even after that interrogation?” He jokes and it might be too early to really joke about this, but I find the tone making this easier to handle.

“If that’s still okay.”

“Of course, dear,” Dianna tells me as Mark gets back to chopping vegetables. Mark asks for something from the fridge and then the pair are lost in cooking, allowing Cal and I to disappear up to his room.

As soon as we’re in the safety bubble of Cal’s room, I spin to face him, “what the hell was that?” My voice is a little high with bewilderment and a drop of hysteria mixed in.

Cal just shakes his head, sitting on his bed only to fall sideways to bury his face in his pillow. He says something into his pillow that I can decipher and I don’t know why I think this is so funny all of the sudden, but I do and I’m laughing as I move to take a seat next to Cal on the bed.

I pull at his shoulder to get him to talk to me instead of the pillow, but he just grunts and dead weights me. “Hey, hey it’s not that bad, really.” I try pulling at him again and when he still refuses to move, I force my hands underneath him and pull again. I don’t expect him to give way to me this time, though, and I end up using more force than necessary. His side hits my chest, and there’s a tangle of limbs and groans before we’re both tumbling backward. I’m glad we’re on his bed and not on the ground. My left arm is caught under his shoulders and his right arm is trapped between us, we’re both looking at the ceiling until I turn my head to look at him. “Cal?”

Cal groans, dragging his free hand across his face. The shift causes his shoulder blade to dig into my wrist. “I’m so embarrassed. What were my parents even thinking?” There’s still color to his features that isn’t there normally.

“I'm pretty sure your parents are thinking we're having sex." I laugh as Cal groans and tries to shove at me to hide his face again but I keep him close, "no, really, Cal it’s not that bad.” I say again and this time Cal looks at me with a raised eyebrow and complete disbelief, the whole, ‘are you serious’ look coating his features. “Okay look - actually, first come here because you’re hurting my arm,” there’s shuffling around until we’re both posted up on our sides looking at each other. I drag a finger from his temple down to his jaw, soft skin shooting sparks from my fingertip down my arm and into my chest. “Second, Cal, it’s just because they care and it’s not like we’re being abstinent or whatever.”

He rolls his eyes at me, a smiling trying for his lips, but ultimately disappears. “I think I’d die from frustration if I had to refrain from touching you while dating you.” Cal teases, dropping his eyes down to my chest watching as he moves his free hand across the clothed skin. I think he’s rather enjoying the tightness of his shirt on me, and being under that appreciative gaze is making me sweat.

I laugh, something warm and pleasant bubbling in my stomach. “Me too, honestly. You drive me crazy with how gorgeous you are.” That smile that was hinted at earlier finds its way onto Cal’s face. He’s gotten way better at accepting compliments from me - he doesn’t outright hide behind his bangs anymore, and I’ve never been more glad for that than right now where I can see something spark beneath the surface of his eyes as the color on his face darkens.

“No, I don’t.” He argues. There’s less self-doubt there and more teasing than there has been in the past.

“Excuse me, are you calling me a liar?” I exclaim dramatically.

Cal glances up to my face. I can see that it was supposed to be a fleeting glance, but he stalls instead. A pretty look, soft around the edges, comes across his face. He leans forward enough to lightly press his lips against mine. “You’re not a liar.” He says pulling back enough to speak before kissing me again with that same level of fondness the previous kiss had leaving me light and very much aware of him and our relationship.

“I’m glad you know that,” I confess, my voice as down to just above a whisper. Cal rolls his eyes at me, before pushing at my chest until I get the memo and fall back onto my back. He follows, laying his head high on my chest, wrapping his arm around my middle. My hands find their normal spots around his back and folded beneath my head.

Several minutes pass of us just laying around enjoying the other one’s presence.

“Garrett.”

“Yeah?”

“The text from your mom…” Cal trails off, voice blurring into my chest.

I attempt to shrug which is just really a poor excuse of shuffling in our current position, “you don’t need to worry about it, Cal. I told you, I’d tell you if things got worse. Comments like that are… it’s normal.” My throat tightens around the last few words, because why does this have to be normal? 

Cal doesn’t say anything just swallows loudly before burying his face deep into the crook of my neck, his grip tightening around me as if to make sure I'm still here. I knock my head down so that I can feel his hair against my cheek and lips, kissing his hair lightly.

It all starts to settle uneasy, concern and frustration building with no outlet for either of us, so before Cal can push or before I pull away, “so, how was my theater debut?” I can feel Cal smile into my skin as he shakes his head not fighting the change of topic. “What? Were you not blown away by my skills?”

This time, Cal pushes himself up enough to match my gaze. “You did a  _fine_  job, Garrett.” I’m about to protest that I did better than fine when I can see more words building on his tongue so I swallow mine. “It was kind of you to read so that we didn’t have to call Martin. I think Simon really appreciated it. I know I did.” A pause that lets his smile deepen, turning to something playful, “besides, when else am I going to see such a master of the arts perform.”

“For some reason, I feel like you aren’t being serious."

"Of course I am, Garrett." I comically squint my eyes at him, as if trying to read all the lines under Cal's words, it causes Cal to laugh a little, soft and tired but real. He lays his head back on my chest and I tighten my grip around him. 

We relax against each other again and it's probably time for us to start to head back down for dinner, but before mentioning that I have another thought spring up. "Cal, do you think we should change shirts back?" Instead of an answer, Cal laughs, really laughs hiding his face in my chest. 

 


End file.
